Free Vieux Carre by Tennessee Williams Page B

your looks an’ manners since when you arrived here an’ now, mockin’ me with that grin an’ that shifty-eyed indifference, evidence you’re setting out on a future life of corruption. Address and phone number, I’ll write, I’ll phone! —You’re not leavin’ here with a piece of trash like
that
that pissed out the window! —Son, son, don’t do it! [
She covers her face, unraveled with emotion. Exchanging a look with Sky, the writer places an arm gingerly about her shoulder
.] You know I’ve sort of adopted you like the son took away from me by the late Mr. Wire and a— and a crooked lawyer, they got me declared to be— mentally incompetent.
    WRITER : Mrs. Wire, I didn’t escape from one mother to look for another.
    [
Nursie returns, huffing, to the lighted area
.]
    NURSIE : Mizz Wire, those tourists ladies, I can’t control them, they’re pickin’ the azaleas off the bushes, and—
    MRS. WIRE : That’s what I told you to stay in the courtyard to stop.
    NURSIE : Oh, I try, but one of ’em jus’ called me a impudent ole nigger, and I won’t take it. I come here to tell you I QUIT!
    MRS. WIRE : AGAIN! COME BACK OUT THERE WITH ME! [
She turns to the writer
.] We’ll continue this later. [
She exits with Nursie
.]
    WRITER [
to Sky
]: —Were you serious about the West Coast offer?
    SKY : You’re welcome to come along with me. I don’t like to travel a long distance like that by myself.
    WRITER : How do you travel?
    SKY : I’ve got a beat-up old ’32 Ford across the street with a little oil and about half a tank of gas in it. If you want to go, we could share the expense. Have you got any cash?
    WRITER : I guess I’ve accumulated a capital of about thirty-five dollars.
    SKY : We’ll siphon gas on the way.
    WRITER : Siphon?
    SKY : I travel with a little rubber tube, and at night I unscrew the top of somebody’s gas tank and suck the gas out through the tube and spit it into a bucket and empty it into my car. Is it a deal?
    WRITER [
with suppressed excitement
]: How would we live on the road?
    SKY [
rolling a cigarette with obvious practice
]: We’d have to exercise our wits. And our personal charm. And, well, if that don’t suffice, I have a blanket in the car, and there’s plenty of wide open spaces between here and the Coast. [
He pauses for a beat
.] Scared? Of the undertaking?
    WRITER [
smiling slowly
]: No— the Coast— starting when?
    SKY : Why not this evening? The landlady won’t admit me to the house again, but I’ll call you. Just keep your window open. I’ll blow my clarinet in the courtyard. Let’s say about six.
    [
The conversation may continue in undertones as the area is dimmed out
.]

SCENE NINE
    The lights come up on Jane’s studio area. The shuttered doors to the windows overlooking the courtyard below are ajar. Jane is trying to rouse Tye from an unnaturally deep sleep. It is evident that she has been engaged in packing her effects and his
.
    JANE : Tye, Tye, oh— Christ . . .
    [
He drops a bare arm off the disordered bed and moans slightly. She bends over to examine a needle mark on his arm
.]
    TYE : — Wh— ?
    [
Jane crosses to the sink and wets a towel, then returns to slap Tye’s face with it. He begins to wake slowly
.]
    Some men would beat a chick up for less’n that, y’know.
    JANE : All right, get out of bed and beat me up, but get
up
.
    TYE [
stroking a promontory beneath the bed sheet
]: —Can’t you see I
am
up?
    JANE : I don’t mean that kind of up, and don’t bring stripshow lewdness in here this— Sunday afternoon.
    TYE : Babe, don’t mention the show to me t’day.
    JANE : I’d like to remind you that when we first stumbled into this— crazy—co-habitation, you promised me you’d quit the show in a week.
    TYE : For what? Tight as work is for a dude with five